


We That Are Young

by theseerasures



Category: Brave (2012), Frozen (2013)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-24
Updated: 2014-09-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 14:05:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2351096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseerasures/pseuds/theseerasures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gates open and relationships mend, but there is more to being Elsa than being queen, and there is more to being a family than staying together. The open gates draw new forces toward Arendelle, and fate never remains unchanged for long. Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff in the aftermath of Frozen, with guest appearances from other characters in the Disney canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We That Are Young

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine.

The figure in front of her is wearing a cloak that seems to be made of _dark_. Not darkness, mind, but just…dark. “Come with me, lass,” it says, “Come to see the fate of your world.”

_Ah,_ Merida thinks. It’s a dream. She recognizes the voice.

A few moments later, the figure sighs, and throws back her hood. “ _Honestly_ ,” the Witch in the Woods says, “Doesn’t anyone act properly in a prophetic dream anymore?”

“Never learned how,” Merida says, “And I’m not gonna act proper for your dream, you turned my Mum into a bear.”

It’s a fairly important point, she thinks, but all the Witch does is give her a negligent wave. “Unsatisfied customers,” she mumbles not very quietly, before beckoning again. “Well, come on! I don’t have all day.”

Against her better judgment, Merida follows her into the Witch’s dream cabin. After all, it’s not possible to turn her into anything terrible while she’s still asleep in the castle. She thinks.

She grips her bow just a bit tighter, in case. “Well?”

Something in her voice seems to make the Witch pause. “You’ve changed, princess,” she says, staring intently at Merida, before shaking herself. “I’ve come to give you a warning. Beware the frozen heart.”

Merida nods, waiting for more.

The Witch stares, and then rolls her eyes. “That’s all.”

“All,” Merida echoes, and then frowns. “Wait, what?”

The Witch huffs. “Never again,” she mutters, “Dunno why I even bother to do favors for mortals—all this work, do I ever receive thanks? No, it’s always _that’s all_ or _you turned my mother into a bear_ —”

“No,” Merida says, still trying to work out what just happened. _Something_ , certainly, but. “That’s all, really? No…green? No rhyming poem? No homunculuses?”

“Homuncul _i_ ,” the Witch says, still petulant. “And yes. Beware the frozen heart.”

Merida stares at her.

“Oh, for—I’m not going to tell you everything this time, last time was a freebie—”

“ _Free_? You turned my mother into a bear—”

“All!” the Witch says. “That’s all the prophecy, this time ‘round. Go…wake up and ride your cow into the sunset.”

“Angus is a _horse,_ ” Merida starts, but the Witch just waves again, and walks back into the murky shadows.

At the outer edges of the dream, however, she turns around again. “Remember what I’ve said, Princess,” she says, suddenly serious again. “Beware.”

* * *

Anna likes the open gates; she really does.

There’s the obvious stuff, right—there are just so many people _everywhere_ , now, from everywhere that’s…not here. Anna has vague memories of big crowds in the castle from before, and there’d been the coronation banquet, duh—but to see them around every day is something else.

She’s just never realized that people can be so…people-like. It’s strange, but it’s _nice_.

And then there’s what the open gates really mean. Which, okay, Anna knows metaphors, Anna’s _great_ at metaphors, and this one has to be her favorite. Open gates mean _Elsa_. Open gates mean that they can always hang out—well, not always, because that’s weird and Elsa has queen stuff and it’d be annoying if Anna was around all the time, but. They can do family things. They can have _meals_ together.

_Well,_ Anna thinks as she stares around at the empty room, _maybe not right now._

She likes the open gates, but the thing about gates being open is that—

Kristoff skids to a halt next to her, Olaf tucked under his right arm. “Well, I didn’t find Elsa,” he says, “But I found the next best thing?”

“Hi, Anna!” The snowman says, giving her a little wave as Kristoff plops him onto the floor. “You okay? Your face is all funny.”

“I was thinking. Olaf, have you seen Elsa? I’ve been looking for her all morning.”

“Yeah, why?”

“Is she in the castle?”

“No, why?”

They stare at each other. Anna’s mind races; Elsa’s not in the castle—did something happen? To the kingdom? Or—or, did _Anna_ do something? She can’t remember. What if she’d done something to make Elsa upset?

She’s being stupid, Elsa wouldn’t just up and leave like this, not _forever_ , she probably just wanted…alone-time. Broody hour. It’s probably nothing.

(It’s probably something.)

The thing about the gates being open is that it’s easier for people to _leave_ through them as well.

“Anna?” Olaf’s voice. “Your face is doing that thing again.”

Anna opens her eyes. Olaf is still beaming at her, but Kristoff’s face is squished with concern. _Now what_?

She blows a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, and sighs. The sky’s been awake for hours, and Anna’s _hungry._ She wants breakfast.

She wants breakfast with her sister.

_Right_ , she thinks, _right, you’re a princess. You’re the boss_. Wherever Elsa is, she’s definitely hungry too, so Anna’ll just. Go and get her. It’ll be a fun sisterhood activity.

Find Elsa.

“Olaf,” she says, “Can you show me where Elsa went?”

“Yeah, why?”

* * *

This time around, Operation Find Elsa doesn’t actually end up taking that much effort once she gets out of the castle.

_Oh,_ Anna thinks as she looks at the small rise ahead. She hasn’t been here since the funeral, but everything looks unchanged. Same mountains in the background, same great grass sea that stretches on for miles.

Even the twin boulders looming in the distance look pristine—three years, and no wear and tear. Not a spot of moss on the runes inscribed upon them: _This too shall pass_.

Suddenly, Anna wonders if this is the first time Elsa’s even been down here.

Olaf speeds off in Elsa’s direction, waving cheerfully, but Anna hesitates. Elsa’d left without telling anyone except Olaf—what if she _did_ just need some time alone? Not _alone_ alone, not alone forever, but—maybe they should go back. It’s not a closed door, it’s _so_ not, but—

It’s just. It’s been thirteen years, that’s all.

After a minute of silence Kristoff clears his throat.

“Are you—I mean,” he stutters to a stop, and then sighs. “Do you guys need some time alone? I can stay here with Sven.”

_Last time I introduced her to a guy she kinda froze everything._ “Yeah!” Anna says, a little louder than necessary, probably—it’s _not_ the same, she’s being ridiculous. “Yeah, give us a—two! Two minutes.”

Her foot stumbles over _something_ as she tries to swing off the saddle; the world suspends for a split second and then she is in free-fall, thinking absurdly as her arms flap around _I’m going to die right now looking like a human windmill_ —

“Oof!”

A pair of strong arms catch Anna before she lands hard on the ground. “Jeez,” Kristoff laughs as he sets her down, “You’re a disaster.”

Something about the way his eyes dance makes her stomach feel funny—not _bad_ funny, but weird; a little like flying, maybe—not that she’s _flown_ , but—

On impulse, she kisses him on the cheek, and giggles when he flushes. “Two minutes,” she promises, and giggles even harder as he sits down and begins counting the seconds out loud.

For some reason, everything seems a little lighter.

* * *

“…and my heart broke,” Anna hears Olaf say as she makes her way to where they’re sitting, “I know that it’s just a carrot, but it’s my nose too—one of a kind, right? And—”

“Anna,” Elsa interrupts.

Anna feels her face heat up in embarrassment; she hadn’t been _trying_ to sneak up on them, exactly—

“No, I’m Olaf,” Olaf says, with exaggerated patience. “Are you sure you’re okay, Elsa? Because—”

“I just meant—Anna’s here now, Olaf.”

“She is?” the snowman says, and then brightens even more. “Anna! Hi!”

For some reason her knees give a little wobble, like they don’t want to be here at all. _Don’t be ridiculous_ , she thinks, _you’re here already, it’s not like you can run away that’d be totally crazy_ — “Hi!”

She waves, Olaf waves back, then…

“Oooookay,” Olaf says, “I’ll go and find Kristoff. See you later!”

He’s gone with another wave, and then it’s just the two of them.

Anna’s hand darts up before she can stop herself and does that little wave thing again. “Hi.”

She’s pretty sure she said the same thing five seconds ago— _what is wrong with her, seriously_ —but Elsa just smiles at her. “Hi.”

“Um,” Anna says.

Oh, eloquent.

She clears her throat, waits, and clears her throat again.

_Knock_ , she thinks, but Elsa beats her to it.

“This is the first time that I’ve seen them up close,” she says, gesturing at the giant monoliths behind them, “I couldn’t…”

Anna swallows. “I remember.”

It must have been the wrong thing to say, because Elsa goes still in a way that makes Anna wince. She opens her mouth, to reel the words back in, to bury them so they’ll never see the light of day, “I didn’t mean—”

“No. No, it’s—” Elsa makes a sound that might have been a laugh, but there’s no air to it. “I could see these from the window in my room everyday, you know, and even then—I could never understand why Mama and Papa chose to be buried here, weighed down by these—these _rocks_ , like what they carried in life wasn’t enough. Why would they want this reminder of how they were dragged down by the sea? Why would they—why would they want…?”

She trails off, and Anna stares at her, caught in the memory That Day, how off-kilter the world had felt—like she was the last leg holding up a broken table.

Well, that’s not the case anymore; wasn’t that the point of Everything?

“Huh,” she says out loud, “I’ve never thought about it like that, I guess.”

“No?”

“Yeah, I’ve always—” Anna hesitates, and then throws herself down on the grass next to her sister. “They got lost at sea, right? I always thought that these rocks tied them back to—earth, or just—here. Home. So they wouldn’t be lost even after—even _after_ , y’know? Like. A beacon.”

There’s a strange expression on Elsa’s face as she looks at Anna—like she’s grown another head, maybe. She coughs, feeling a flush working down her neck. “Or—or, not. Yours is better, I’m not really good at—”

But Elsa just shakes her head. “That was…I liked it. It was different— _good_ different.”

Anna grins. “Well, that’s me,” she replies, bumping Elsa’s shoulder, “I’m different.”

“ _Good_ different.”

“ _Same_ different,” Anna shoots back, and—that doesn’t make any sense, but whatever. Elsa obviously gets it, because she just hums.

The silence that follows is a lot more comfortable than their first one, but after a minute Elsa sighs. “I’m sorry I left without telling you,” she says, drawing up her knees to her chest, “I—haven’t been sleeping. Well. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

Anna waits, but Elsa doesn’t seem to want to elaborate; just stares at her knees. “Is it…dreams? Because—I have them sometimes too, and Kristoff—that’s okay, I think. We’re allowed. What do you dream about?”

“I…” Elsa scrubs her face with her hands, bringing the shadows under her eyes into sharp relief,“I don’t know. Things.”

Then she seems to realize what Anna just said, and frowns. “What do _you_ dream about?”

Anna rolls her eyes. _If you won’t, then I won’t either_. “I don’t know. Things?”

The wry smile she gets from Elsa only lasts for a second before it decomposes. “It’s not just dreams. Dreams are…manageable, but when I froze—”

She crashes to a halt. “When I froze.”

“Elsa.” The temperature is dropping. _Don’t shiver_ , Anna tells herself.

“I’ve been getting reports,” Elsa says, giving herself a little shake, “About food shortages, all over the country. Not all of the crops recovered in the thaw, and—winter is coming. And. There are—rumors, abroad? Not everyone took the news about my—my magic in the best way. Dunbroch sent a letter asking the _strangest_ questions—apparently they’re sending a delegation, and that’s not even the worst of it. Arendelle is getting attention from all over the world, we’re going to need to—”

For the second time, she stops. “I’m the _queen_ ,” she says finally, taking a deep shuddering breath, “But I can’t—sometimes I just—”

Her eyes flood, and she buries her face in her hands again.

Anna’s heart does a painful _pop._ This isn’t fair at all—everything was supposed to be fixed, but right now she feels like she’s trying to hold onto something made of mist.

“You could go,” she says. Quietly, so that maybe Elsa doesn’t hear.

But Elsa hears.

“Anna,” she says.

Too late to turn back now. Anna plasters on a smile; it’s too wide and hurts her face a little, but it’s the best she can do. “Well, you could! North Mountain still has a vacancy—fix up the Ice Palace, hang out with Marshmallow, and just make ice things! No more worries, no more queen stuff, no more—”

She can’t keep talking, she _can’t_. Instead she just kind of stares down at her lap—not very brave, but well.

There are goosebumps popping up all over her arms; she rubs them away.

“What would you do there, though?”

Anna’s head snaps up. “Wait, what?”

“You and Kristoff and Olaf,” Elsa says, and she looks almost shy. “What would you do all the way up in North Mountain? Olaf could play with Marshmallow and Kristoff could talk about ice all day, but what about you? How are you going to keep yourself entertained?”

“Me?” The understanding _Elsa would want me to come_ blankets her entire brain; a grin—a _real_ one—fills her up, fills up all of Arendelle. “Well. It’ll be a real sacrifice, but I can probably find _something_ to do.”

“I’m flattered, I’m sure. What about food?”

“Food? Psh. Kristoff can trade for that with his ice business or he can hunt—or, or! I could hunt. I can hunt, I fought wolves.”

“Oh, I remember.” Elsa’s mouth twitches, but Anna plows on:

“Or! I could _train_ the wolves, so they won’t attack us, and then _they_ can bring us food—or, we can get all the animals together and form a circus—”

“Anna!” But Elsa’s laughing, and Anna’s laughing too, and the morning air is warm again.

“I _am_ sorry,” Elsa says after a while, suddenly serious again.

It’s the kind of thing that means a lot of _other_ things, but Anna just shrugs. “I love you.”

“Elsaaaaa! Annaaaaaa!”

For a second both of them look up at Mama and Papa, but it’s Olaf’s voice calling them home. “Kristoff said to give you guys some more time, but _you_ said two minutes, and it’s been ten, and I could hear Sven’s stomach rumbling…”

Elsa gives her a lingering smile, and pushes herself up. “We should head back.”

And—it’s stupid, okay, but Anna just lets herself—bask, a little. _We_. “Yeah,” she breathes, grabbing her sister’s outstretched hand to pull herself up, “Yeah, we should.”

She grabs a quick hug before, though.

* * *

Once they rejoin Kristoff and Olaf and set off back to the castle, it doesn’t take long to settle back into a nice, convivial rhythm.

“I’m not saying you have to like, _sing duets with them_ , but it’d be nice if you could just _mingle_ a little more during balls and stuff—”

“ _Mingle?_ ”

“What, is that so bad?”

“It’s creepy.”

“Right, because practically clinging to the wall and staring at everyone isn’t weird at all—”

“You _butthead!_ ”

The shout cuts through their argument, and Anna’s head jerks to the sound. No one besides the royal family and their guests are supposed to be here, and definitely not--

“Mira! Cas! Wait _up_ , we’re not supposed to--”

A bright orange bundle plows directly into Kristoff’s knees; he lifts it up instinctively. “Hey, what--”

“Geroff!” what seems to be a little boy in an oversized coat says, squirming and kicking. Kristoff winces, and dumps him unceremoniously back on the ground. “Ow! Watch where you’re standin’, you--oh.”

Worry floods his features, and he pelts away again. “Mira! Cas! There’s _people_ here, we’ve got to leave before they get the queen or something...”

He disappears into an undergrowth. Elsa’s mouth twitches as she meets Anna’s eyes. “ _People_ ,” she says.

Anna snorts. “Well, we’d better go see what he’s up to! Wouldn’t want to get the _queen_ involved.”

It’s not hard to find where the boy went; Anna’s not a tracking expert or anything (excursions to North Mountain notwithstanding), but the yells and crashes in the distance are a pretty big tip-off.

“I _told_ you not to run off--”

“She’s got Mom’s watch! Give it back!”

The boy wearing the orange coat is shouting at two younger children: a girl with red hair gloating atop a tree, waving something silver around, and a red-faced boy trying desperately to clamber up.

The older boy notices them first. “They’re _here_ , you nits, we have to run ‘fore they fetch some noble up here--Mira, gave the watch back.”

“Won’t until Cas gives me back my blanket,” the girl shoots back, “An’ that _is_ a noble, Ani. That’s the queen. And the princess.” She does a weird flop thing. “Your Graces.”

A curtsy, then. “It’s Your Majesty,” Elsa says blankly, looking at the kids like she’s never seen--well. Anna supposes she really _hasn’t_ seen any children up close in a while.

“She don’t look like the queen,” Ani says, looking doubtfully at Anna, before his brain seems to catch up with his mouth and he practically throws himself onto the ground. “I mean--Your M’jesty, we didn’t mean to climb the fence, Cas just wanted--”

“ _Give it back!_ ”

The shout jolts all of them, and as Anna turns to look at the younger boy, a giant hand made of snow shoots out of his fist, grabbing Mira and dragging her squealing to the ground. The boy-- _Cas_ , Anna thinks dimly--runs up and snatches the watch up. “ _Don’t touch Mom’s things!_ ” he screams, still red faced with fury.

It’s suddenly very, very quiet.

Anna blinks, and then blinks again. It’s possible that none of that actually happened, she thinks. She might have had--a fit, and imagined the whole thing.

Beside her, Elsa makes a noise like something hit her in the chest.

That sound seems to jerk Ani into motion. “Run!” he yells, his face a mask of terror, and there’s no hesitation as all three of them speed off.

Anna reaches out to stop them, to do _something_ , but they are gone.

 


End file.
